


Incorrect Assumptions

by a_pocket_full_of_fancy_words



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Consensual Violence, D/s, Hurt/Comfort, Impact Play, It's just porn., M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Role Reversal, Spanking, Violent Porn.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 04:18:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_pocket_full_of_fancy_words/pseuds/a_pocket_full_of_fancy_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite the way everyone babied Chekov, he'd grown up fast. He learnt quickly to avoid or deflect unwanted attention on his part, to manipulate those who thought they could take advantage of him. Eventually he'd learnt to take advantage of it. </p><p>So when Sulu found himself stripped and forced over the bed by deceptively strong hands, he was surprised, but 'little' Pavel Chekov was not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incorrect Assumptions

Chekov was undeniably cute. Just turning nineteen as they set out on the five year mission, his hair grown out a little far so that it bobbed around his ears in curls. He was gorgeous and he knew it. So did everyone else.

What they didn't know is that Chekov lacked the attitude to match. He might be the youngest person on board the Enterprise, but he left home at 13 to do his first degree, and was at the Academy by the age of fifteen, taking second and third year classes in his first. 

No, despite the way everyone babied Chekov, he'd grown up fast. He learnt quickly to avoid or deflect unwanted attention on his part, to manipulate those who thought they could take advantage of him. Eventually he'd learnt to take advantage of it. 

So when Sulu found himself stripped and forced over the bed by deceptively strong hands, he was surprised, but 'little' Pavel Chekov was not. 

"You want zhis?" He breathed hard into the nape of Hikaru's neck, the grip he had in the older man's hair tight enough that a few strands came loose. 

For a moment Sulu didn't respond. Did he want this? Of course he wanted Chekov, but he hadn't anticipated having him  _this_  way - or rather, hadn't anticipated Pavel having  _him_. Eventually, though, he agreed. He wasn't going to pass up a chance to fuck Chekov, even if it had to be on Chekov's strange terms. "Yes."

"Yes what?" Pavel asked, almost sweetly. The words sounded dangerous and erotic on his tongue.

"Yes I want it." Hikaru elaborated. It was the wrong thing to say. Chekov left him, shoving him hard face down into the mattress. When he returned he was carrying something threatening just out of Sulu's line of sight. 

"Zhe lesson you will reciewe," Lesson? Sulu had the feeling he'd signed up for rather more than a quick shag. No matter; he was committed. "Is how to address your betters. I am your better, here, Hikaru. You will call me sir." He paused for a moment, considering. "Or you may call me master."

The kinky little shit. Sulu didn't have time to dwell. The threatening object swished through the air. He heard the impact, and for a moment nothing happened. Then hot, icy fire shot up from his ass, so sharp and unbearable and unexpected that he screamed. He reached back reflexively to protect his abused flesh, and Chekov didn't stop him. 

The crop had left a long, raised welt across both cheeks. The age of corporal punishment was long gone from most planets in the Federation, and Sulu had never been hit like this before, but he was willing to bet he'd carry that bruise for days. 

One of Pavel's strong, delicate fingers joined his, worrying the swollen line and dipping just a little into the cleft between his cheeks before moving on to the other side. 

Hikaru twisted his body round so that he could see Chekov. He was naked and holding a black, old fashioned riding crop - the real kind now deemed maltreatment for horses, not the fake, plastic excuse encountered in sex shops. Possibly a family relic. He held it down against his own thigh in the hand that wasn't stroking Sulu. His cock glistened in the poor lighting of the room, precum beading at the tip. It was beautiful, definitely worth tolerating the boy's strange fetishes and the bruises afterwards. Sulu wanted to take it in his mouth, but the crop raised into the air a second time, and he didn't dare. 

"Do you want it?" Chekov asked, some odd cross between a warning and a genuine inquiry.

Sulu's body trembled in anticipation, not entirely of a good kind. But the shuddering rubbed his cock against the sheets and oh, God, yes, he wanted it. "Please, sir," he raised himself up a little higher, arching his ass off the bed so that Chekov had easier access. He wasn't quite ready to call his subordinate "master", no matter how good of a friend he was, nor how fuckable.

Pavel brought the crop down with even more force than before, and despite his having been prepared this time, Hikaru screamed again. The searing pain crossed over the previous blow's path on his left cheek, and he twisted his fingers in the bedding, eyes watering and breathing heavy.

"Beg me for it." Chekov said again, and this time it was clearly an order. 

"Yes, sir, please, please spank me sir." Sulu whined against the duvet cover. 

Chekov delt him a brutal blow, the worst yet, a genuine punishment. Sulu was not begging well enough, and he would pay for it with a bruise that lasted nine days on his sit spots. 

When he finally managed to open his throat to speak again, Hikaru's voice broke. He still wanted this, but he had no idea what. Begging did not come naturally to him. Still, he had to make an effort. "Please, please,  _Master_ _,_  please spank me.... I've been a... I've been a bad boy. And I... I need... To be punished." 

He turned his face to Chekov again as a tear trickled down one cheek. If it was tears he wanted, tears he would get. His breath caught in his chest and he allowed himself to sob almost silently for a full minute before Pavel raised his weapon a fourth time. It slashed down, not as hard as the last time, but still enough to continue drawing the sobs from Sulu. He buried his face in the bed again, unwilling to move lest it anger Chekov further or else turn him off entirely.

This seemed to do it for Chekov, and he rained strokes down as hard as his initial ones. By the tenth Hikaru was convulsing and scrambling at the bed, and he sustained a single scream through blows eleven to fourteen. The boy didn't stop though, not at the fifteenth or the twentieth, but  kept on until the twenty-third; Sulu's age. 

When Pavel finally ceased, Hikaru could only lie where he was, sobbing and gasping, His throat was hoarse and raw, but nothing like his ass. His cock had flagged to a semi that was mostly maintained by the friction against the sheets.

Chekov's demeanor changed immediately, as he sat on the bed beside him. He stroked Sulu's back and whispered nothings in Russian in his ear as his superior officer cried into the duvet. His body felt good against Hikaru's back, like it was meant to be there, sweaty from all the exertion, sticky and  _Chekov_  and good. 

"It is alright, Hikaru. I forgiwe you." He told him. "Come wizh me, you hawe some lotion in zhe bazhroom, it will make you feel better." 

Sulu let himself be guided on trembling legs by this strange little Pavel who had reverted to his normal big, innocent eyes and expressive mouth, wondering how on earth Chekov knew that Sulu had lotion in his bathroom.. The light dazzled him for a moment before his eyes adjusted.

When Chekov was rummaging through his cupboard for whatever cream he was searching for, Sulu stood before the full length mirror. His upper thighs and lower buttocks were a mess of angry red and black lines slowly fading into one huge bruise. He ran his fingers over the criss-cross of welts and found them smearing blood where that third, unbearable blow had broken the skin. The pain was so bad that it almost seemed like Pavel had not stopped. It was sickeningly erotic.

Chekov returned though, lotion in hand, reaching round Sulu from the front. Their erections pressed together as he uncapped the bottle and poured a full palmful of the viscous fluid out. He wiped it over both hands and slowly reached down to cup Hikaru's burning cheeks as the man watched tearfully over his shoulder. 

At first the cool of the lotion was welcome against the heat, but after a few seconds the burn returned with a vengeance; the damaged nerves lit up anew at the rubbing motion and the chemicals in the lotion, and Pavel's body heat inflamed them even more.

Sulu sobbed, fresh tears running down his cheeks only to be rubbed off onto Chekov's shoulder as he buried his face there, clutching the Ensign as though his life depended on it. His finger nails dug little crescents into Pavel's flawless milky skin. 

Two hours later, after Hikaru had cried it all out with nothing left to give, and the pair of them had rutted their cum out between their bellies and they'd bruised their lips redder than Sulu's ass with kisses, McCoy gave him the most severe and questioning look ever to grace sickbay. 

Well; the most severe  _thus far_ , because this encounter turned out to be the first of many. None of the rest ever took Sulu by surprise, though.


End file.
